The Eternal Supernova Theory
by ImpossibleImpact
Summary: She left everything she ever loved behind her, her surfacing mutations destroying all she knew. Now, Lorelei Harlow lives on her own, taking to the skies of New York City as a masked vigilante fighting for the weak, while running from the shadows of the past. But when she bumps into a renowned mutant leader and joins his team, she finds that her past is the least of her problems.
1. Chapter 1

**hey hey hey!**

**how's it going? so this is my first Wolverine and the X-Men fanfic. Up until this point, I've done strictly Transformers Prime stories, but I was messing around with this series and BOOM, a story was created. Please do not hesitate to leave comments. I love hearing from you guys. **

**this takes place after the season finale of Wolverine and the X-Men season 1. Enjoy!**

**THE PLEASURE IS ALL MINE**

Chapter 1

She let her head lean comfortably against the head of her seat, her body groggily and comfortably pulsing from the steady plod of the train's journey over the tracks below her. She let her forehead lean against the cool, foggy window, New York's luscious, green vegetation contorting together in different pale, hues. She pulled her leather jacket tighter around her body as she let a long, tired sigh escape from her lips as she heard the familiar clatter of glass instruments chime across the cart as the food pushcart slowly made its way up the aisle, occasionally pausing, a gentle murmur of voices ensuing, muffled from the roar of the great, hefty train.

To say she was a nervous was so great an understatement, it was almost a lie. If the incessant tapping of her leather boots against the exhausted, worn floor beneath her wasn't convincing enough, it was her traveling mind that was a sure sign she was mighty too worried about the journey ahead. It was a piteous escape tactic at that. Her mind was delving so deep within its own thoughts, she didn't even realize her left index finger had traveled from its trembling stance in her lap to the icy, cloudy window beside her. Her hazy attention didn't notice her finger had begun to dance across it, swiping and bending in different directions, her movements those of a mind possessed. And even when the approaching pushcart ringed and tinged beside her, a hoarse, scratchy voice asking her if she wanted anything, she continued to sit, dazed, as her finger daintily contorted lines and dots all across the window. The scraggily, hunched waiter gave a small look of annoyance before pushing on past to the family of 5 seated behind her. And she smiled when she finally discovered what her finger was drawing, the muscle memory of those images so engrossed in her hands, it was no surprise to the 17 year old that, as a coping mechanism, her mind had reverted back to the most simplest and purest of objects, the lives of light she knew would never leave her or whom she could never hurt; the stars.

Sketched with the talent of genius at work, tiny, intricate constellations beautifully decorated the window, the green land behind it shining through the small lines. Each one was proportionally spaced from the other, none out of order or misplaced. And the young girl's small smile grew even bigger as she named each one off, one by one, almost giggling at her ability to name all of the stars involved. She let out a content sigh and turned her stare back to the stained leather seat in front of her.

Was she going to be ok?

Her passion to help others may have brought her into the deepest of predicaments…but was it really a "predicament?" If he was any indication of the rest of them, she wasn't all that worried about getting along with them. But that's what she was afraid of…getting along with them; getting too close. But she reprimanded herself, arguing that it would be different this time…that she would be _prepared_ this time. She knew what she was doing and she was ready if it was ever to happen again. She deserved this. 5 years without anyone. 5 years pushing everything away. She deserved friends, she deserved a team.

Her head perked up at the sound of a warbling voice as it crackled through the overhead speakers, catching only the words "North Salem" before the intercom faded as waves of bustling surrounded her. She watched as adults grabbed their bags and suitcases from the overhead shelving and children bounced excitedly in their seats, furiously wiping away the fog at the window, trying to pear harder at the approaching train station.

She particularly watched a small girl beside her, curly black pigtails bouncing energetically as she danced her small doll through the air, exclaiming North Salem several times with her pure, sugary voice. But her yelps immediately stopped when the doll tumbled out of her hands and was shoved across the aisle by the feet of a hurried bunch of finely dressed men. The doll landed by her feet. She gently picked it up and walked back over to the small girl, who had her large, brown eyes gleaming up at the older girl. The 17 year old ran a delicate hand across the doll's hair before getting down on one knee and it handing back to the little one before her.

"Here you go," she said, watching as the small girl cautiously took it back from her.

"T-thank you," she replied, her voice smaller.

She carefully studied the girl, watching the familiar, mystical hues of colors dancing from the little girl's skin. Fierce purple's bounced, along with splashes of green and pink. But what caught the older girl's attention were the small spikes of blackish-red that sprouted like vines across the girl's hand that still clutched the doll. The older girl gave a small, sympathetic smile to big brown eyes before her.

She reached out and squeezed her small hand. "Good luck. And remember, that you'll always be special," she whispered, loud enough for the little girl to hear her over the bustling crowd of anxious passengers, but quiet enough so that the little girl's wary mother beside her could not hear. And with that, the older girl collected herself up and disappeared into the loud crowd.

_**AT THE TRAIN STATION...**_

He expertly watched the throngs of passengers exiting quickly out of the train doors, nimbly scanning the crowds for a face. The raven-haired man, no doubt, looked horribly out of place. Whether it was due to his stationary stand, along with a white-haired, African American female beside him, amongst the floods of movement around him, or simply the sheer size of him and his sharply sculpted muscles, he stuck out.

"I don't see her, Logan," the woman said from beside him, growing worried as the crowds slowly decreased in size, the train nearly close to emptying.

"Don't worry, Ororo. She's here. I can smell her," he reassured.

The woman turned to look up at him, with a small, curious smile on her face.

"You never explained how you met her, Logan," she stated.

It was Logan's turn to smile as he replayed the night over again in his head.

_He ran across the wet, slippery pavement, his feet expertly dashing across the already forming puddles. The beating rain made his tight suit cling to his large body, rippled and edged masterfully with muscles earned from heavy training and the glorious heat of battle, an eerie darkness clinging to them as if they were shadows themselves. His steady breathing produced small puffs of white fog that clung to the damp air with a vengeance. His nerves danced with excitement, as he peered behind him to watch as they drew nearer. He could hear the loud, monotonous footsteps of his pursuers, already multiplying as his enhanced hearing picked up the screech of another vehicle that had joined in on the chase. He grinned mischievously as the click of the triggers of their weapons echoed across the almost deserted neighborhood. _

_He wasn't afraid. To say he had gone out that night looking for a reason to run, a reason to feel the excruciating, heated pain of his metallic claws sheath forth from his dense knuckles was probably not all that wrong. On a stormy night like tonight, no one would be out on the streets. No mutants at least. That means he had their full and undivided attention. Perfect. And the fact that they had come extra prepared that night, equipped with a holding cell and everything, its extra weight on the vehicle's wheels chiming in his ear, made him all the more cockier. _

_The X-Men leader even gave his chasers a moment to catch up, standing idly in the street, smirking confidently as the uniformed men circled him on all sides, their hauntingly black glasses staring the mutant down. All weapons were trained simultaneously on the wanted convict, as said offender continue to smirk with raw arrogance. _

_"Took you guys long enough," Wolverine called out to them smugly, brashly rolling and popping his shoulder sockets. "Kelly's really pickin' the best and the brightest for his 'Mardy' squads, isn't he," watching, amused, as one of the soldiers actually began to shake, the former Weapon-X smiling at the smell of fear that reeked from the rookie's body. _

_"Surrender now and we won't hurt you!" one called out from the crowd of MRD soldiers, his voice almost muffled by the pouring rain, whose intensity had only increased. _

_"Funny thing, Bub," Wolverine said, smiling at the satisfying sound of his claws slicing through his skin and embracing the fresh, damp air of the rainy night, "I was going to tell you the same thing." _

_And without a moment's hesitation, the beastly mutant was off, jumping first for the rookie, quickly knocking him out with a roundhouse kick. Grabbing the shoulders of the now unconscious lackey, he swung the soldier in a circle, brutally clobbering the soldier's heavy boots into any surrounding MRD recruits. Animal instinct kicked in as he quickly completed a back flip, narrowly dodging a series of blasts that had erupted from a nearby weapon. He swiftly fist punched a soldier feet from where he landed, grinning as their nose broke with a clean crack beneath his fingers. He grabbed the weapon from his hand and began shouting at the fast approaching group of fighters, his mouth cocked in a supercilious smile. _

_He was having a blast. _

_Though the men were heavily protected, the force from the blasts of Wolverine's newly acquired gun alone knocked most of them off of their feet, leaving the haughty Logan with a few more stragglers, before they would be calling in aerial reinforcements. _

_A piece of cake. _

_The X-Men leader was already imagining his proud walk back home to the mansion and the glass of ice, cold beer when his eyes widened in confusion at a sudden and devastatingly sharp pain that had erupted right in the center of his chest. He quickly turned his attention to find a soldier pointing a gun straight at him, the barrel still relishing in the smoke of its bullet's exit._

_"So that's how it's going to be. You're going to be sorry –" But Wolverine's speech was cut off abruptly as his world suddenly shifted out of focus, the atmosphere around him tipping like an uneven see-saw and the edges of his vision clouding over with bright lights. _

_He weakly turned down to look at where the blast had hit him, expecting to see an already healing scorch mark across his rib cage. But he was caught off-guard to find a small vile of some kind, it's needle surprisingly able to make it through his infamously dense skin. He roughly pulled the contraption out, but looked distraught at the empty vile; the damage had already been done. But what kind of damage? The cocky leader was only aware of a few type of sedation needles the MRD used, none of them able to pierce his skin deep enough to make it into his blood vessels. So what was this?_

_He glanced back up to find his vision had become even fuzzier, the MRD vehicles and the buildings behind them swirling together like a finger painting. He cringed as his weak legs suddenly crumpled, forcing the animalistic mutant down on his hands and knees. He could vaguely hear the footsteps of approaching Mardies, their numbers slowly but steadily increasing. _

_He was screwed. _

_Suddenly, a flash of pure, golden light danced across his line of vision, causing an immediate shift in colors, the leader assuming it had just taken out the line of soldiers that had already gathered in front of him. There came a series of panicked yells and screams, as the bright light same into his vision a few more times before stopping just before him. And that's when his whole world finally blackened out, his weak body collapsing to the cool ground before him, his fevered body relishing in the puddles that had already started to form around him. _

"If it wasn't for her, I'd probably be dead right now," he stated, his eyes still scanning the crowds.

"Has Hank found out what you were injected with?" the weather witch asked.

"He says it's some kind of new "cure" they've were testing on months ago. But the product was banded due to the continual negative results. He's still trying to figure out how it got back out on the MRD's shelves," he explained. His ears suddenly perked up at a set of familiar foot fall.

He looked up, surprised to find most of the train station had emptied out, to find a recognizable set of pale eyes, set atop a pair of gently freckled cheeks. The small teenager had shoulder length, strawberry-blonde hair that bounced in calm waves. Logan chuckled at her new wardrobe, having given her money for the motel, a train ticket, and some cash for some new clothes. She had exchanged her ratty Red Sox's hoodie and holey camo pants for a white blouse that puffed at the sleeves, a small, navy pleated a-line skirt, black tights and small, ankle length boots. The only luggage she carried was a brown leather jacket in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

She smiled when her eyes finally found his. They closed the distance between each other.

"Hey, Munchkin," he greeted, smiling when the girl waved off his offered hand and came in for a hug. He chuckled and patted her on the shoulder and laid the other on her head.

"Safe trip?"

"Yeah, it was ok. And don't you dare call me Munchkin again," she said, pulling away from him with a playful scowl on her face. Logan chuckled.

"Lorelei, I'd like you to meet Ororo Monroe."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lorelei," Storm greeted, shaking the small girl's hand.

"The pleasure's all mine," she answered.

_**BACK AT THE XAVIER INSTITUTE...**_

"Where is everybody, anyway? I thought they'd all be here to greet her," the thin, brown haired girl asked, peering around the large hall, the morning sun just catching the glittering crystals of the overhead chandelier, towering high on the lofty ceiling above the grand staircase, leading to the second floor of the institute. She habitually folded her arms across her chest and turned to the blonde-haired boy beside her, who had kept his eyes out the window, peeled for any signs of the black vehicle.

"Well, Scott and Jean are out by the water and truthfully I don't want to know what they're doing. Forge is working on the jet, Hank's down in the computer room still looking at the juice he found in Logan, Tildie's watching cartoons and Kurt is probably off somewhere moping like a big baby," he answered, playfully blowing his frigid breath against the window pane, waiting for it to fog over before smearing his hand across it and repeating the process.

"Come on, Bobby, you can't blame him for wanting some alone time. Take it easy on him," she said, resting her back against the window to look at the ice mutant beside her.

"Hey, he went and fell head over tail for Magneto's daughter and we all warned him about what he was getting himself into," he said, shrugging.

"Bobby, she almost killed him at their last week's attack on Senator Kelly! None of us saw that coming," she reprimanded him.

"Are you kidding me!? I totally called that scenario! Either that, or she'd have daddy-dearest cook him up on a homemade frying pan and feed him to his ugly lackeys," Bobby joked, earning him a hard backhand to the head.

"Hey!? Why yah hitting me? We were all thinking it," he grumbled, rubbing his sore head as the energetic young woman beside him continued to glare.

"I swear with your mouth, Kurt's mood swings, Rogue's on-again off-again status on the team, Scott and Jean's "I love you I hate you" relationship, Tildie's destructive nightmares and Logan's temper, I can't imagine anyone who would want to stay here! Heck, I don't even know why we're still here!" she exclaimed, turning to watch with her friend as the black SUV pulled up to the front door of the mansion, watching as their new teammate stepped out of the back seat and surveyed the property.

_**HOURS LATER...**_

He stepped out of the medical laboratory, closing the door quietly behind him as to not disturb the sleeping guest behind him. He brought his large, blue-furred hand up to his face, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses further up his nose, as he surveyed the medical charts and scans on the clipboard in front of him. He almost jumped at the sight of the prescience of most of his team members, seated around the large computer room table, save for Bobby, Kitty, Kurt and Tildie, who were no doubt crouched low in a air shaft or vent of some kind, trying to listen in on the exclusive conversation.

"Everything go ok, Hank?" Logan asked, who, unlike the others, had chosen to stand off to the side, his hands casually clasped in his pockets.

The blue mutant ran a hand through his equally colored locks and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Due to her absence in modern-day society, I have updated her with all of the precautionary vaccinations and I performed a mandatory physical of sorts," he explained, walking over to the large, overhead computer and bringing up his patient's charts on the screen.

"How long has she been out on the streets?" Jean asked, gently laying her chin on her clasped hands.

"From her lack of body weight and muscle mass, I estimate about 4 years, give or take," the physician explained.

"Does she not have family?" Ororo asked, looking worriedly up from the table to Beast.

"She did not seem willing to disclose that information," he explained.

"Did you get anything from her mind?" a tall brunette asked, turning to the red-head telepath beside him.

"No. Her mind is expertly locked. A telepath must've taught her how to shut others out of her mind, and they taught her well," Jean explained.

"So you're telling me we have a strange kid who's been out on the streets for years suddenly walking around the mansion with the keys!?" the brunette exclaimed, his red-tinted glasses noticeably glowing with rage.

"She saved my life, Summers, and she's got nowhere else to go," Logan intervened, glaring at Cyclops, daring the young man to challenge his decision.

"No offense,_ Logan,_ but you said the same thing about Rogue and she's been putting us through the ringer with her little Brotherhood escapades. What is up with you and abandoned kids, anyway?" he asked, getting up from his seat to address the X-Men leader.

Wolverine let out a feral growl and closed the distance, inches from Scott's face.

"In case you haven't forgotten, Summers, _you_ were an abandoned kid when Charles picked you up. We all were. That's what most of this institute consists of," the former Weapon-X growled.

"What did you learn about her powers, Hank?" Ororo asked, trying desperately to cool the burning rage that had ignited between the two rivals, Jean pulling her partner down back into his seat, frowning at him.

Hank pulled up a set of different charts and turned back to his team. "It appears that Lorelei possesses a series of mutant alterations. She does, no doubt, possess a form of healing capability, but due to her numerous superficial wounds, I have come to the conclusion that she is limited to healing others only. She did fall asleep though, she was terribly exhausted, so I still haven't gathered all the data I need to fully assess her abilities. However, while I was running a full body scan, I came across _this_ interesting discovering," he explained, enlarging a particular photo from the bottom left hand corner of the screen. On the screen was a rough outline of the young mutant's body and skeletal form. However, right in the middle of her chest, was a ball of burning, white light.

"What…is that?" Jean asked, the entire team staring wide-eyed at the scan.

"It appears that her heart, in itself, is a form of light energy source. But a powerful one at that. The radiation and electromagnetic readings I gathered from it supersedes that of any synthetic form of energy. I had to access NASA's data files to finally find something that mirrored these readings," the scientist explained.

"And? Whad yah find?" Logan asked.

"It was the Sun. The thermal, radiant and electromagnetic readings from her heart perfectly match those of the Sun and numerous other stars in our galaxy. I still can't comprehend how her body is in any way stable at the moment. It's astonishing to see that her heart appears to be freely circulating small pieces of this energy throughout her body, along with oxygenated blood, as if her very being depends on it," Hank explained.

"Incredible," Jean gasped.

"So what kind of power are we talking about here? Level 2? 3?" Scott asked, his voice still on edge as he sneaked glares over to the still secluded leader.

"Until she wakes up, I have no way of predicting what exactly this means. She may not have any powers concerning this…adaptation and then again, she may have a whole other series of abilities," the scientist explained.

"When she was attacking the Mardie's the other night, she was glowing. Could that be from her heart?" Logan asked.

"It is a possibility," Hank replied.

"Great. So we're caging a possible ticking time bomb that, for we all know, could be Senator Kelly or even Magneto's head honcho? You really out-did yourself this time, Logan," Scott grumbled.

"You know what, Summers, the door is always open. If you don't like it, no one's stopping you," the X-Men leader grumbled back. Cyclops stood up from his seat and stormed out of the control room, forcefully slamming the door behind him.

_**LATER THAT EVENING...**_

She released a relaxed sigh, and let her senses fall back into place as she slowly shook off sleep from her worn out body. She felt so embarrassed. Mr. McCoy had been looking over her scans, explaining something to her, for which subject she couldn't remember, and she must've completely hit the hay. She just felt so tired. She had never felt so drained. Though it was probably largely due to the numerous vaccinations and scans she had to undergo, it was still overwhelming for her to feel so utterly tired, that she couldn't stay awake long enough to find somewhere else other than a medical examination table for a bed.

She was about to sit up when, immediately, her instincts began to flare at the change in atmosphere. Expecting to feel the table's cold, hard surface below her, she began to worry when she felt the surface give underneath her weight. She suddenly became aware of the feeling of cloth surrounding her, and something along the lines of a cushion stationed beneath her head. The smell of disinfectant and latex was now replaced the sweet smell of lilacs and she became aware of a small breeze that poked ruthlessly at her ears and nose. She began to panic. She was clearly no longer in the X-Men's makeshift emergency room.

So where was she?

What did they do to her? She had heard many stories and tales of the infamous X-Men, but never regarding taking mutants hostage or worse. Though the tall man with the red sun glasses seemed rather intimidating when she was first escorted into the medical facility, she had never expected trouble from the X-Men.

How could she have been so stupid as to let her guard down? Had she really bought their false sense of security? How could she have been so easily blind sighted? More importantly, how was she going to get out of this mess, when she finally discovered what kind of mess she was in?

She quickly bolted upright in bed, her eyes ablaze with panic as she quickly scanned the area, her hands glowing with a bright, golden light, her heart racing. However, her tense nerves quickly began to relax as she found her surroundings replaced with those of a bedroom. She was laying on a large, plush bed, equipped with large, down comforters and pillows, in between large, intricately decorated cherry head and foot boards. Off to her left was a large dresser made of the same cherry wood, pushed against the perpendicular wall, along with a small side table to her right. In front of her, the room expanded for at least 50 feet. Beside the dresser was a large window behind a large, window seat made once again of cherry, decorated with ivory and baby blue pillows. Next to the window seat were two, large storm doors that led out to what appeared to be a small, marble balcony, its railing supported by small, evenly spaced pillars. The doors were now open, letting the gently, evening breeze dance with thin, ivory curtains. On the wall opposite her bed was a large fire place, with a beautiful, gray stone base and jamb and numerous empty frames that scattered the mantel shelf. In front of the fire place was, as expected, an ivory shag rug underneath two sandy colored bean bag chairs on each side. And against the wall to the right of her, just next to her door, was a cherry vanity table, with a single vase of fake, white lilies in front of a large, three sided mirror.

She quickly closed her agape mouth and did another once-over the room again. It was gorgeous. And at the sight of her clothes gently hung in the open-door dresser, and her leather jacket sitting on the small stool by the vanity almost made her cry; this was her room. This mansion sized room, fit for the Queen, was all for her. It almost made all of the run-down motels, apartments, factory storage rooms and occasional restaurant basements all worth it. She not only had a room, but a home and a street address to call her own. It was almost too good to be true.

She sighed contently, stretching out her tired limbs. She should've never doubted them. If these people were anything like what Mr. Xavier had relayed to her, the X-Men were very good people. She reprimanded herself for assuming that everything, including the just X-Men teamed, had mutated along with the changing times, no pun intended. The whole world was spiraling out of control. Whether mutants were perceived as a threat, a disease, or simply the enemy, everyone believed they were better off dead. With the MRD's becoming more ruthless every day, Congress cracking down on mutant registration and restriction laws and groups like the Brotherhood and Magneto not helping their cause in the least bit, there was no hope left for them.

She slowly gathered herself out of bed, pulling down her grey, scrunched and crumpled sweat pants and shirt and made her way over to the balcony, her feet shivering at the feeling of the cool marble beneath her toes. She stared in awe at the scenery before her. Directly below her balcony was a large, stone patio below a wooden pergola, covered in rose vines. The green yard stretched out for at least 2 acres before suddenly drooping way to beautiful cliffs, right before a small stretch of beach, all over-looking a vast body of water.

The X-Men didn't play around.

As she was inhaling the sweet, ocean breeze and smiling at her score of a beautiful view, she couldn't help but notice a small burst of wind, irregular to the gentle draft around her. She also couldn't shake the feeling that something, or someone, was watching her. Of course, being in an institute with a number of other mutants was going to leave her very few moments of private time. But this one felt close.

"Zih fiew is vonderful, yah? Vee don't have anysink like zis in Bavaria."

The small girl let out an ear-piercing scream, stumbling in surprise and falling, hard on her butt. She groaned and opened her wide eyes at another small puff of wind, spotting the source, or rather the mutant, before her.

"My apologeez. I didn't mean to frighten you," he said, offering his hands to the fallen girl.

She stared up at the figure. He, like Hank, was blue but certainly not as hairy as the scientist. The boy before her was blue-skinned. He had raven hair that parted in the middle, both parts flopping to each side, though not far enough to cover his extremely pointy ears. His eyes were a solid, golden yellow, each eye circled by a darker shade of blue. As she studied his skin tight, red and navy suit, she suddenly discovered his twitching, blue tail, ending in the shape of an arrow head. She looked once again up to his small smile, his lips almost hiding the two, small fangs on each side of his mouth. She gave another once-over his white-gloved, three-fingered hands and grabbed them. With incredible ease, he lifted her off the ground, running a hand through his hair as she dusted her butt off.

"Sorry I startlet you. I didn't vant to shcare you vith my appearance, vut I endet up doink anyvay," he said, crest-fallen already seeming to shrink back to the shadows, turning away.

"What's wrong with your appearance?" she asked, looking skeptically at the blue mutant. He turned to her with a confused smile in his face.

"Vell, it's not everf day you see a big blue elf runnink aroun town," he replied, pulling at the pointy ends of his ears.

"Well, than that just makes you all the more special," she replied with a small smile, extending her hand out to him.

"I'm Lorelei, by the way."

The young mutant stared down, astonished, at the hand before him. Never, in his whole life, had he ever met someone so…not surprised by him. Never had first introductions gone so smoothly. There was only one other person that seemed to look at him as you would anyone else, and that was Professor Xavier. Even the rest of his teammates were cautious around the young mutant when he first arrived at the institute. Kitty had literally screamed in horror, Bobby had wet his pants, believing the young Kurt was a demon, Jean had given him a shaky "hello" wave before leaving the room, Logan seemed disgusted and Scott had given him a hesitated, weak hand shake. To someone like Logan, for example, Cyclops would've firmly grasped their hand and shook, a trait the mutant had explained he had learned from his father. Of course, Kurt would want to be there if there ever came a day when Scott and Logan would actually shake hands. But this girl standing before him held nothing of those emotions in her eyes. They were almost expectant, and a little confused when he didn't immediately shake.

He hesitantly placed his hand into her small fingers and shook her hand, smiling.

"Kurt. Kurt Vagner. But my mutant name eez Nightcrawler," he replied.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Kurt," she said.

"The pleasure eez all mine, Fräulein," he replied.

**wow, lots of unanswered questions, i know. how does Lorelei see "colors"? what other powers might she have? where is her family? why is scott still acting like he's got a stick up his butt? why did the scarlet witch attack the senator and how did she come close to killing kurt? questions, questions, questions. :) all to be answered in good time**


	2. Readjusting

**hey hey hey!**

**Logan, Lorelei and the gang are back for story #2. Sorry this took so long. Thank you to those who have favorited, followed and commented on my first chapter. You guys rock and hope this ones good too. **

**don't be afraid to comment**

**Chapter 2: Readjusting**

The cool, sparkling air of the October night blanketed the room in a refreshing hue of mystical, midnight blue, scratched with shadows that crawled about the room. The pale, glowing moon governed the bedroom, its light slipping through the open storm dorms, the lacey curtains dancing with the magical whispers of dark. But the moon and its accompaniment council of stars could not protect the sleeping girl from the evils that waltzed across the night, playing freely amongst the twilight dusk, whispering in the ears of those who dwelt among the realm of dreams. The lights in the sky could do nothing but watch silently as the young girl was whisked up by the demons of the nightfall in a treacherous nightmare.

At first, all that could be heard were small moans, her body stiff, her hands harshly clasping the surrounding blankets as if her life depended on it. Suddenly, her body then shifted with an un-natural force, letting out a small yelp of fear as the nightmare grew increasingly dangerous.

"No…no, no, no, no, no," she feverishly mumbled, her pillowcase now damp with wet tears.

"NO!" she screamed, jerking once more, her blankets now a heap on the floor. The delicate silence of the night had now shattered, the sharp glass of the air now skipping horrifically at her cries that now had carried more sound than before.

"No…no…I didn't do it," she groaned, her eyes scrunched in pure terror.

"KEVIN!" she screamed, her voice rattling the cold night air. Her door suddenly burst open, a dark figure quickly making its way to her bed, where it firmly, but gently, clasped her shoulders and gave her a small shake.

"Hey, Munchkin, it's ok," it whispered, its voice still scratchy and numb with sleep. But the young girl continued to shift in her sleep.

"KEVIN, NO! PLEASE, NO!" she screamed. The beings eyes narrowed firmly.

"Lorelei, wake up," it commanded, its voice louder than before. And as if responding directly to his call, the young girl's eyes awakened in fear, her body sitting immediately upright.

"Sshhh, it's ok. You're safe," he comforted. The young girl's wide eyes finally settled down, her heavy breathing slowly settling out as she turned to the prescience beside her.

"Logan," she whispered, as if trying to convince herself that the life before her was real, and not one created by the evil spirits of the night.

"You ok? You sounded like you were being murdered," he explained, leaning down and picking the soft, cotton blankets off the ground and laying them over the girl, whom he had noticed was still madly trembling. It took her a few moments to finally gain enough strength to respond.

"Um, yeah…I'm fine," she said, still trying to gain her bearings.

The X-men leader before her gave a small smirk.

"Was I in it?" he asked.

She returned with a small smile, one the highly-perceptive mutant in front of her could see completely through.

"No, not this one," she replied. "Just worried about trying out the danger room tomorrow."

The shirtless man arched an eyebrow, knowing the young mutant was clearly hiding something, or in reference to the "Kevin" name she had been calling earlier, someone.

He gave her a small pat on the shoulder before getting up. "You'll be fine, Lorelei. Just get some rest," he said, already heading towards the door.

"Hey, Logan?" she called out quietly to him. He turned back to her.

"Thank you," she said. He gave her a small nod before slipping out her door and back out into the pitch black hallway.

The young girl let out a soft sigh before gently laying her still shaking body back down onto the mattress. She looked up at her bare ceiling, already, silently, rhyming through the constellations in her head, never again closing her eyes that night.

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"You're eating popcorn at 9 o'clock in the morning!?" the brunette scoffed, turning to the obnoxious chewer beside her.

"What?" he asked, innocently, "I came prepared. This is going to be epic," he replied, offering the bowl of warm-buttery popcorn to the phase-shifter.

"Bobby, for all you know, she may just be a healer," Kitty said, cringing as the ice mutant stuffed another handful of snack into his mouth, munching loudly.

"Or maybe not," Nightcrawler commented, swinging down by his tail down from his perch on an overhead pipe.

"Of course, we'd already know if Logan here would just ask the kid to release her mind barriers and let Jean find out," a voice scoffed from beside Iceman, red shades glinting beneath the overhead, florescent lights. He grunted as a hard, muscled body bumped past him, joining Beast and Forge by the main, central control system.

"No one's stopping you from asking her yourself, Summers," Wolverine challenged, Cyclops letting out a noticeable growl before the red-headed telepath beside him laid a comforting yet firm hand in his shoulder, gently warning the young man to back off of the possible argument trigger.

"I think this is a good idea. We'll get a chance to see her powers in action for ourselves without having me pry through her mind," Jean replied, watching cautiously to see if her boyfriend would back away from ever-persistent urge to call the X-Men leader out and challenge his commands.

"The new and improved Danger Room is all set. I've programmed the computer to start her off on a "level 1" set of challenges. From there, the computer will evolve its weapon systems and obstacles according to her fighting techniques and abilities," a young man explained, looking at the former Weapon-X as he gave a once over the newly built control panel, the whole system itself destroyed from a mishap in a previous training session with the team, Kitty having accidently phased through the machinery after being thrown from an overhead blaster.

"Because the software is still new, I had Forge install an emergency override program to allow us to manually shut down the room if things get too out of hand," Hank explained, lowering his glasses as he peered up at his leader beside him.

"Which I don't think we'll need because I've already run through the software at least 3 times and its running at peak efficiency," the tech-savvy mutant commented, Logan replying with an amused smirk, able to name at least 5 instances when the young genius had repeated that same phrase minutes before his experimental technology had completely backfired. The X-Men leader did not doubt his fellow teammate's astounding capabilities, but he knew giving the mechanic simply 24 hours to bring the Danger Room up to par from the state it was in was asking a lot. And the fact that the training room looked perfect, a little too perfect, had Wolverine deeply worried.

"And if Lorelei is not gifted with offensive powers, she'll still be able to overcome these tests?" Ororo asked.

"The program will start her off on simple evading strategies. If it senses she can't physically attack it, the system will keep it toned down," Forge explained.

Logan turned back down to the small mutant girl from his perch in the overhead control center. She nervously fiddled with her skirt as she snuck wary glances at the surrounding, large metallic walls.

"You ready, kid?" Logan asked, bending down to the microphone, sensing the team instinctively crowd around the large window.

Lorelei gave a firm nod before closing her eyes. The team watched wide-eyed as the small mutant was suddenly covered in a blinding white light, immediately disappearing to reveal her in a dark, navy one piece with an equally-colored cape, that reached to her ankles, and a mask that covered most of her face. Her hair had been pulled and clipped up.

Bobby laid a cocky arm over Kitty's shoulder. "Only a healer, huh?" he brashly questioned. The team's interest was peaked even higher when the outer edges of Lorelei's body was gently covered in a thin layer of the same bright light.

"Ready," she responded, her voice traveling through the communication system in the control center.

"Initiating Level 1 of Training Session 1," Forge announced, pressing a large button in front of him. The team held their breath as they watched the young 17-year old below.

Lorelei whipped her head around at the sound of metal shifting. She watched as two panels from the opposite wall were pushed aside, making room for a large remote control blaster, its barrels sizzling with static energy. Her eyes narrowed on the activated weapon. With an ear-shattering detonation, the blaster was fired, a bright green flare flying straight for the small mutant. With equally incredible speed, Lorelei back flipped out of the way, landing nimbly on her feet. And just as her toes made contact with the floor, the gun was once again activated, two more flares were soaring through the air. Lorelei quickly extended her arm, a circular, glowing shield appearing 4 feet from her. The flares crashed into the golden shield, dissipating in an explosion of smoke. Without another moment's hesitation, Lorelei lifted out her arms to the blaster, which was still slowly activating for another round of shots, and created a large stream of energy igniting in front of her fingers and traveling to the unguarded blaster, demolishing it to a mere heap of warped metal on the ground.

Suddenly, everything paused, Lorelei looking around expectantly for something else.

"Analyzing collected data. Reprogramming weapon systems," a computer voice responded, her voice echoing across the cold, empty room.

"That doesn't sound good," Lorelei mumbled to herself.

"System's reprogrammed for Level 8 Omega mutant," it continued.

"Wait, what!?" Kitty exclaimed.

"How's that possible!?" Scott demanded, peering once more down at the mutant through the glass window.

"Your systems must be scanning her wrong!" Bobby offered.

"That's a possibility, but the system is going to attack her as it reads her!" Beast replied.

"Forge, shut it down now!" Logan exclaimed, turning to the young mechanic.

"I'm trying!" Forge yelled, his fingers furiously flying across the control panels.

Lorelei stumbled in circle as at least 20 of the previous blaster now surrounded her, on top of three spinning blades lowering from the ceiling, numerous tentacles that snuck out from small crevices along the floor and two large walls shifting closer to her, prepared to squeeze her into oblivion.

"Crap," Lorelei grumbled.

She began quickly shooting at the blasters around her, her hands spouting out rays of golden light at rapid fire. A few were hit, but her tactics were much more frantic and haphazard, and most of them missed. She tried to dodge as many blasts as she could, but there were too many, even for someone with her power, and she soon yelled out in pain and stumbled down on one knee as one caught her in the back of the leg. She growled in frustration as she looked back up at the large shooters.

"That's how you wanna plan, huh?" She quickly got to her feet and spread her arms in front of her, several orbs of energy suddenly forming before her. She swung her arm up to the ceiling, and the orbs followed, each one crashing into their own blaster, sending a series of explosions bouncing across the room.

Lorelei suddenly turned to her sides and watched as the two large, metal walls sped towards her, focusing on that particular problem and not the 20 new blasters that had replaced the demolished ones along the wall. Lorelei shut her eyes and scrunched her eyes, a ball of the familiar golden light cascading in a protective dome around her. The walls crashed into its sides, forcefully pushing against them as Lorelei struggled to keep her bubble intact. She could feel small beads of sweat dripping down her forehead as she struggled to keep the detached walls from crushing her.

"That's enough!" she cried in frustration, her protective dome suddenly exploding into dangerous rays of light, the encroaching walls instantly reduced to merely a pool of melted metal by her feet. As she stopped to catch her breath, letting the dome fall away into little pools of dissipating, golden glitter, she was caught off guard by one of the spinning blades, the blunt end of its attached, mechanical arm sending her flying across the room and landing in an exasperated heap.

Nightcrawler quickly flipped from his perch. "That eez it. I'm gettink her out of zere," he proclaimed, Wolverine nodding his agreement. The blue mutant was gone in an instant, leaving behind nothing but a puff of sulfuric smoke.

He suddenly reappeared beside Lorelei, who was gently rubbing her head as she was slowly gathering herself up from the ground.

"Just holt on to me, Lorelei," he instructed, placing a helpful hand under to her arm to help pull her up. But before Nightcrawler ever had a chance to teleport, one of the ignored blasters fired at the two, most of the shots missing the pair save for the last one that hit the teleporter square in the chest and sending him flying and landing with a loud thud on the ground.

"Kurt!" Lorelei exclaimed, looking worryingly at not only her fallen teammate, but also at the series of blasters that were now training on the new, limp body. With a renewed sense of energy, she quickly ran over to the unconscious mutant, dropping and sliding right next to him and immediately activating another protective dome over the pair, just as bright blasts began to rain down on them.

"Forge!" Jean exclaimed, watching as Scott and Bobby hurriedly rushed down the stairs to help out the stuck duo.

"I'm trying, but nothing's responding! The systems are deadlocked!" he exclaimed just as frantically.

"Alright, guys, back up! I'm going to short-circuit this thing again!" Kitty yelled out to them over the rapid blaster fire just outside the viewing window.

"No, Kitty! Do you know how hard it is to find these kinds of parts again!?" he shrieked, almost appearing to bawl right on the spot.

"Hang on, Lorelei!"

The young mutant turned to see Iceman and Cyclops charging down the stairs and into the Danger Room, the latter swiping his glasses off and letting his open eyes release any built up energy they packed, the red glare tearing through the opposite wall as it took out a row of shooters. Bobby immediately iced up and began gliding across the floor, freezing the controls of the spinning blades, finally faltering their pursuit of the fallen comrades.

The four X-Men were suddenly taken aback as every piece of equipment suddenly became engrossed in a blanket of static, everything giving one last fizz before shutting down. The blasters disengaged and hung limply from the wall and the blades slowed down to a halt. They looked up the control center to see Shadowcat smiling and waving down to them as Forge stood next to her yelling and crying at the destroyed system controls around him.

Lorelei released the dome in a heavy, tired sigh, settling back against the ground. Her eyes suddenly grew wide as they spotted above her a flat-surfaced weight that, now disengaged, had nowhere to go but down. She watched, fearfully, as it began plummeting down towards her and Nightcrawler, her dome clearly not able to deflect a powerful weight such as that. Her eyes suddenly narrowed, determined as an idea hit her. Scott had caught on to the commotion and was seconds from taking his glasses off again, when Lorelei suddenly raised her hand, fingers spread apart, and sent a large ray of beaming light straight up to the weight, the metal contraption exploding into a group of large pieces that still remained en route to her. Now with both hands out, she sent out a different looking energy from her palms, the golden, sparkling force telekinetically halting the falling debris, and following the gentle movement of her hands, slowly landed on the ground beside her.

"Scheisse!"

Aulora turned to her side to find Nightcrawler struggling to sit up while roughly grasping his burning rib cage, his eyes shut in pain.

"Hey, relax, Nightcrawler. You were hit pretty bad," she gently explained, placing her hands on his shoulders and softly pushing him back into a lying position. He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow as he watched her eyes suddenly glaze over in a bright, solid yellow as her fingers gently poked and prodded along his exposed, scorched skin.

"They're only second degree burns, but you have few bruised ribs," she explained. She guiltily withdrew her hand when the blue mutant hissed in intense pain as her finger traced along a more damaged area.

"Sorry, Kurt," she replied. She let her hand cascade over in a gentle, golden yellow as she turned back to the teleporter.

"Would you mind?" she asked. Seeming to know what she was suggesting, the young, German boy nodded, hissing and groaning as Lorelei placed her full hand right on his open wound. But within seconds, his lower chest and stomach became numb with a warm, melting bliss that immediately outweighed the pain. He looked down at her glowing hand and watched, fascinated, as his regenerated skin cells began to reattach, slowly closing his wound and returning it to its usual blue. He could also feel the sore tension in his chest release, as if nothing had ever happened.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Lorelei suddenly felt a firm hand on her shoulder and was roughly thrown back from her patient, her eyes going back to normal, the connection severed.

"Scott, stop. Lorelei vas tryen to help me," he rasped, weakly getting to his knees to address the raging Cyclops that was starting to gang up on the fallen 17 year old. Out of nowhere, Logan stepped firmly in front of Scott, his eyes dangerously daring the young Summers.

"Summers, what do you think you're doing?!" Logan demanded, pointing a threatening finger at Scott's chest. The powerful mutant roughly swiped his hand away. The team was gathering around them, ready to step in and stop the two rivals from ripping each other apart

"In case you haven't noticed, a kid you thought was a nobody just survived a Danger Room simulation msot of us couldn't on a good day and you're letting her near Nightcrawler!?" Cyclops exclaimed.

"Ze gurl vas healen me, Cyclops," Kurt replied, gratefully accepting Bobby's help from the floor, the ice mutant slipping the acrobatic's arm over his shoulder for support, the blue mutant still winded.

"Summers, you need to cut the shit. While she's under this roof, she's an X-Men and you gotta start treating her like one," Wolverine commanded, the rough-and-tough lone wolf quickly slipping into his leader demeanor to address the former student.

"Just like Emma, right!?" Scott spat out sarcastically.

"You need to let that go, Summers! We were all caught off guard, but that doesn't mean that every mutant that shows up on our front door step is out to get us!" Wolverine reprimanded.

"Yeah, but a mutant who doesn't divulge anything about their powers or past isn't one I'm going to trust for a long time!" Scott threw back.

"So you don't want them acting like _you_, is that it Summers!? 'Cause last time I remember, you came to the institute with lasers shooting out of your eyes and completely silent about your past before the orphanage," Logan replied, looking hard at Cyclops, trying to figure out just what was scratching at the mutant.

Scott glared through his ruby glasses at his leader for a few seconds longer before storming off towards the control room and out of the Danger Room.

Wolverine released a heavy sigh. "Sorry about that, Munchkin. Scott's just—"

But the X-Men leader cut himself off upon seeing that the young girl was not only not behind him, but nowhere to be seen.

"Vat the heck vas in zose blasters, Forge?" Nightcrawler asked, rubbing his still somewhat sore chest.

"None of our previous training sessions have had weapons inflict that sort of damage," Ororo commented, watching as Hank rather roughly examined the young Kurt's newly healed chest, Nightcrawler wincing when the blue mutant pressed his fingers a little too hard.

"That's because the Danger Room programs its sessions to fit a mutants capabilities. The higher the mutant level, the more dangerous the sessions," Forge explained.

"She can't really be a Level 8 mutant. Can she?" Kitty asked, looking expectantly at the others.

"She certainly showed potential just now. Whatever energy she's controlling, she has a strong grip on it," Jean commented.

"Got any power diagnosis yet, Hank?" Logan asked, peering over at the pondering mutant.

"I'll have to take a closer look at the Danger Room scanners that evaluated Lorelei's abilities, but I'll see what I can do," he replied.

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She watched, aloof, as the steaming hot water slowly edged its way up the side of the glimmering, pristine white walls of the cornered, jet-propelled bathtub, the rushing water foggily stirring around in her thoughts.

How long had it been since she had washed up in an actual tub or shower, a clean one, none-the-less. Years most likely. She had never possessed enough money to rent a small motel room or run-down apartment. If she did, it was stuffed deep within her pockets and saved for food, the young mutant ending up sleeping beneath the stars on the payment and tax free skyscraper roof tops in the big city.

And though she was a runaway, often falling asleep beneath those very stars with the utmost painful cravings for a substantial meal, she was a woman of hygiene. Even if it resorted to a few plunges in a fountain in the dead of winter, she would simply cover her body in a comforting layer of golden heat, tie her hair back up and fly back up to her realm in the skies. If she was lucky, she would be able to find an unlocked Italian restaurant or easy-to-access dog grooming facility with a large enough sink and enough dish soap/dog shampoo to get at the portion of caked dirt and grime that had always seemed to grow on her body over the course of a week or so. And every day after that, she would return to that place, of course until the owners smartened up to their shortage of cleaning agents and added more security.

But to see an actual bath tub, so large and glimmering, was almost hard for her to bear. With quick-to-heat water, dozens of jets scattered about its walls, and a neighboring, fully stocked cabinet of human shampoo, conditioner, soap, bubble-bath soap and body scrubs, she almost started to cry.

It was almost overwhelming to experience such a return to…normalcy. It was no doubt hard readjusting to life. Whether it was simply waking up in her own, cushy mattress or eating a home cooked breakfast in the morning, larger than what she had eaten in the span of a few days, maybe weeks only days ago, Lorelei never ceased to be surprised to everything she had lost while on the streets of New York City.

And now, admiring her very own beautifully furnished and fully stocked bathroom, she had one more thing to cherish.

She finally pulled herself from her daze and turned off the running water. She smiled at she slipped her toes into the steaming hot water, goose bumps raging up her skin. She slipped her body in the remainder of the way, letting out the most content of sighs, as she was finally submerged up to her neck. She giggled at first at the propelled water attacking her sides and back, but immediately became addicted to the relaxing feeling and stopped.

She closed her eyes and submerged the rest of her head underwater, letting the smooth, hot water cascade across her nose and cheeks. Suddenly, her left hand began to glow a familiar sparkling golden yellow. She raised it to her head, as it created a small golden mask across her mouth and nose. She waited patiently as the water was drained from the new mask, letting her nose and mouth breathe freely as she rested her body on the bottom of the bathtub, the jets lulling her into a fanciful dream world.

She didn't come back up until 2 hours later, her body wrinkled and water-worn to the shape of a prune. She deactivated the breathing mask and turned to the overhead shelving, admiring the array of brands before settling on a purplish shampoo bottle, a green conditioner bottle and a small bar of off-white soap. The sweet smell of lilacs and water lilies invaded her nose and pores as she went and scrubbed away at her skin and hair, completely dosing her body into her cleaning ritual.

When she had finally finished washing and rinsing, she climbed out of the shower and reached out her hand, a golden light cascading around two baby blue towels and an equally blue bathrobe as they flew over to her hand. She pulled her hair up into the twisted towel and tied the bathrobe tight around her and she pulled the stopper out of the drain.

As opened the bathroom door, letting the cooped up hoards of steamed air rush out and the chilly house air penetrate in, she was surprised to find a sheepishly smiling Kurt before her, his fisted hand raised as if to knock on the door.

"Kurt?"

"Hi, Lorelei. I just vanted to make sure you didnink fall in. You vere in zere for a few hours," he explained.

She gave a small smile. "No, just enjoy a nice, warm bath," she replied. Her eyes immediately fell to his chest, where there still was a hole from the morning's blast.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better, all sanks to you. Hank could not believe heez eyes," he chuckled.

"I never got a chance to say this, but thank you for trying to save me," she told him.

Kurt's smile fell as he adverted his eyes to the neighboring wall.

"Vell, tryink being zee operative word, no?" he stated.

"We were both caught off guard. But thank you all the same," she answered.

Kurt turned back up to her with a small smile on.

"Ze pleasure vas all mine, Vundershöne," he said, bowing slightly. His eyes suddenly lit up with excitement.

"How vould you like an official tour of ze mansion?" he asked.

"Well, I'll have to get dressed first," Lorelei started, horribly discovering that save for the thin cotton bathrobe around her, she was pretty much naked in front of the German mutant, "but I would love to."

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"So when did you move here from Germany?"

The pair slowly trekked their way across the open grass, the chilly October wind nipping at their noses and ears. Kurt had just finished the inside tour, making sure to show the new mutant everything except the sub-level where his professor was residing, knowing Logan was still holding off on opening that bag. She was surprised to hear that the mansion now was no more than half the sum of its former glory, most of the halls then had been lined with small rooms where classes upon classes were held and that the bedroom count had easily superseded 50 in order to accommodate all the teachers and students that had previously lived there. Though they still kept at least 10 spare bedrooms and a handful of classrooms in the mansions new design, Logan had thought it best, at the time, to use the new space to increase the size of the team's bedrooms, the kitchen and the Danger and Training Rooms. But there were still many things that had been transferred over from the mansion's older design, such as the large library on the second floor, all three living rooms, the immense dining room and the infamous grand staircase.

"I vas 15 vhen I vas approached by Professor Xavier vith ze offer to join him and ozers like me at ze institute," the tall mutant explained.

"Did you leave much behind?" she asked, watching as he smiled a let out a small, deep chuckle.

"Not really. I vas raised by a local circus. I performed acrobatics for zem under ze public's assumption zat I vas in a costume, and when I teleported, it vas all by ze magic of ze ring leader," he explained. "But I could not keep ze secret forever, and vhen vord did get out about my demonic abilities, I ran avay from ze circus. But everyvere I vent everyone knew who I vas and cast me out. That vas until Professor found me."

"That's horrible," Lorelei commented.

Kurt only smiled. "Oh, do not fret, Fräulein. Though I vould've appreciated less clubbing, I do not regret any of my decisions," he replied.

"Clubbing? Were they that scared of you?" she asked, the two of them simultaneously taking a seat at the solitary bench that overlooked the crystal waters.

"Ja, zhey vere terrified. The county of towns I had teleported between vere deeply Catholic. Imagine a blue, pointed-ear creature runnink around vith a pointed tail and ze ability to disappear into ze shadows. I vas ze devil in zere eyes and deserved punishment for terrorizing zere towns," he explained, keeping his gaze locked on the sea ahead of him as a long string of painful memories returned.

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He rested his arm against the window, his forehead resting on that as he watched the blue mutant and his new friend though the large, storm window, smiling to himself when the two started laughing loudly together at something Kurt had said.

"Did you find anything, Hank?" the mutant leader asked, his perceptive hearing able to pick up the scientist's footsteps from down the hall.

"Well, I'm still working on the data the Danger Room collected, but I was sifting through online sources of our new guest and I stumbled upon this," he explained, Logan turning around to accept a packet from the Mr. McCoy. At the top of the freshly printed page was the title of a local newspaper, followed by the word obituary. When Wolverine spotted the two names, he furrowed his eyes in confusion and turned back up to Beast.

"Why did you give me this?" he asked.

"5 years ago, both the son and daughter of Arthur and Lillian MacKenzie, Kevin and Allison MacKenzie, died in a skating accident on their private pond. At first, I saw nothing in resemblance to this case and Lorelei's story, but that's when I discovered this," Hank replied, handing another sheet to Wolverine.

"This was taken at the 2009 Congressional meeting where Arthur MacKenzie was sworn in as governor of Pennsylvania," Hank explained, as Logan scanned the photo of the four some. His eyes immediately fell to the young daughter, her blue eyes and strawberry hair all too familiar.

"Is that…?"

"Lorelei? I believe so. Though I cannot explain how she is standing before us, yet she supposedly occupies Grave 289B in Mills Memorial Graveyard in Johnstown, Pennsylvania," Hank replied.


End file.
